Page 40 of The Christmas Cookie Crush

A time or two it was with someone in town who had a vacation rental. And yeah, his buddies might be staying there too, but he’d usually tell them to clear out for a while.

Except that one guy …

I suppress a shudder at the memory of coming out to find his three friends gathered in the living room, drinking beers, smoking weed, and watching some stupid movie. When we walked out, they all shouted out numbers. At first, I was really confused, and I stopped short to try to figure it out.

Then they started breaking down the scores like they do for gymnastics or figure skating competitions. Eight point seven for vocalizing. Six point four for bed noises. Nine point six for duration.

God, I was mortified. I fled, even though the guy had said he’d give me a ride home, choosing instead to walk off my embarrassment and cycle through fury and rage before I made it back home. I blocked him immediately and never saw him again.

For sure I deserve better thanthat.

Fortunately, I know Austin wouldn’t do something like that. Or have friends who’d do something like that. And based on his reaction tomybrother, I know he’d defend me to anyone who tried to act that way.

When he parks in front of my house, he gets out and comes around to open my door for me. Offering me a hand, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me thoroughly. “I’ll see you tomorrow,”he whispers, rubbing his nose against mine. “I do want …” He clears his throat meaningfully. “I’ll find us a better spot, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper back, giving him one more kiss, then he lets me go, standing next to his car as he watches me walk to the door. I wave at him one more time before going inside.

Where I’m immediately greeted by my siblings and their partners ranged on the living room furniture.

“Look who finally came home,” Dylan quips, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

Lydia nudges him, but he doesn’t even spare her a glance. “Did you have fun?” she asks.

Rolling my eyes at Dylan, I take off my coat and boots and give Lydia a smile. “I did. Thanks for asking.”

“What are your intentions with Austin?” Dylan demands, the sarcasm gone, leaving only irritation in its wake.

Straightening, I blink at him a few times, hoping he’ll realize how ridiculous he sounds. Or that Lydia or Sarah or even Ty will jump in and say something. But Ty and Sarah just look at me with brows raised, like they’re wondering the same thing.

Hands on my hips, I tilt my head to the side. “I’m sorry, did you just ask what myintentionsare? Are you Austin’s guardian? Is he a young lass from the Victorian Era who needs someone to protect his virtue?”

Shane snickers, but stifles it with his hand.

I spear Sarah with a glare. Because what the hell? Why is my sister party to this? “Where’s Sophie?”

She waves a hand airily. “Mom’s finishing up some super secret project with her. You know how they get this time of year.”

I do. And it’s actually really great. We all met Sophie a few Christmases ago because Sarah asked Mom and Dad to do a special Santa visit for her. It was her first Christmas without her parents, and Sarah wanted to make it special, create some new memories for her so she didn’t only remember sadness. Special occasions are still hard for them, and I know Shane makes a point to do things with her to commemorate her parents, but she’s developed some specific traditions with my parents that are good for everyone.

Softening, I spare a glance for Shane, who scoots forward in his spot on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands hanging down. “I don’t think this was intended to be an interrogation,” he says, his voice warm like he’s trying to talk me around.

Dylan snorts, ruining any chance Shane might’ve had at smoothing things over. “Like hell it isn’t. Austin ismyfriend. And instead of hanging out withme, he’s off running around with you every time he’s not working!”

“Dylan, you sound like a jealous ex right now,” I tell him. “And with Lydia sitting right there! Shameful.” Crossing my arms, I shake my head and tut in disapproval.

Lydia smirks, covering her mouth with her hand when Dylan casts a glance at her.

“Are you on her side?” he demands of her.

She holds up her hands, palms out. “I’m just here,” she says. “I’m not on anyone’s side.” Then she looks at me, holding her handnext to her mouth to block Dylan from seeing and mouths, “I’m on your side.”

“Hey!” he shouts, clearly figuring out what’s going on.

“Look,” Ty says, making a quelling gesture with his hands, “I think we all just want to make sure this is a good thing. Right, everyone?”

Everyone but Dylan makes sounds of agreement. He sits on the couch with his arms crossed, pouting like a petulant child. “No,” he protests. “I’m trying to figure out when my little sister decided to date my best friend!”

My eyebrows climb my forehead at that. “When was the last time you spoke to your long-lost best friend?”

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